


empyrean

by waterlit



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Home, Light-Hearted, Order as family, Romance, a bit cheesy, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-26 02:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlit/pseuds/waterlit
Summary: Each man builds his own heaven on earth, and Allen is no exception.





	empyrean

Each man dreams his own heaven

(John Connolly, The Book of Lost Things)

* * *

Allen dreams of a bountiful land, a land of milk and honey, of birdsong ringing in the morning, of the sun climbs over the hilltops in a mist of colour, a dash of orange against the far horizon, of sky-blue lakes rippling in the wind and silver fish swimming merrily in the crystal-clear water, of red sunsets with subtexts of pink and purple and the scent of food wafting through the cool evening air.

This is heaven. This is where money doesn't exist, where debts are left uncollected, when perfection is the name of the game.

He dreams of heaven, only to wake in the deepest, coldest, darkest hour of the night, the smell of wine and women hanging stale about the room, a stack of receipts sitting at the foot of his bed.

* * *

 

Heaven is a dream-world, woven from the thread of hope and the yarn of idealism.

It's easy to find—only, it's sort-of-almost-maybe hidden deep behind the curtain of sleep, drifting just out of reach.

* * *

 

It's strange, but one day Allen wakes to the sound of Kanda and Lavi squabbling outside his room, and the sunlight streams through the barred windows and he can hear the sounds of the morning—the crowing of the cocks, the clatter in the kitchens, the muffled sounds from the baths…

And so, this morning, he stops to smell the roses before he makes his way to the dining hall.

* * *

 

Heaven should have good food, Allen thinks, as he spoons spoonful after spoonful of curry down his throat.

And—heaven should have angels like Reever and Johnny and Tapp—

He hopes.

For one needs friends even in the land of the gods.

* * *

 

Kanda and Lavi are in another fight when Allen next bumps into them. He separates them.

Kanda swears.

Lavi hugs Allen.

And this is enough, for now. Three good friends, side by side, backs together as they stand up straight with weapons in their hands.

* * *

 

The first time he sees Lenalee is when a razor-sharp sword sits centimetres from the tip of his nose, an angry swordsman glaring down at him. He doesn't get much time to stare because, really, when someone saves your life, it's only polite to smile and thank them and count your blessings.

But Lenalee's pretty, he'll grant her that.

Eyes like pools glittering under the setting sun, hair like a midnight river, and cheeks flushed the colour of primroses—she's pretty and he likes her at first sight.

But no, it's just like- _like_ and not like- _love_ , and that's how things go.

The days pass by like centuries—and then he's lost in a forest in the east of the world.

Tyki Mikk advances, his skin dark and his eyes molten gold, and now, Allen's dead.

Or so he thinks.

From across the oceans he hears her voice calling to him, and he tries to find his way back.

When he awakes it's her he thinks of first.

 _(He's in_ _love._ )

Love is a dark whirlpool, with murky waters that eat up the stars in the night sky. It leaves only misery and darkness (without form) in its wake… he almost despairs.

Then he sees her again, in Edo, that mystical land of the son of heaven, where trees grow tall into the night, crowned with sweet-smelling flowers.

She's even prettier than before, her cascading hair cut by the vicious claws of the Akuma, but to him, they speak volumes about her strength and her courage.

She's an angel—

She's his angel of love.

* * *

 

They are all safely back in the Order.

Allen wakes to the chirping of birds, sunlight streaming gently into his room.

It's a blessing to be awake, he thinks, it's a blessing to be alive at all, when so many have gone down the old, oft-travelled path into the unknown darkness.

He remembers Lenalee and Lavi and Kanda and Bookman and Miranda, all battered but alive… he remembers the taste of happiness—like the feel of moonlight against his broken skin.

So this is how heaven is. It's really just a construct of our dreams and wills, and maybe, just maybe, he can build his own heaven on earth.

* * *

 

The first thing Allen does in the morning is enter the cafeteria and order a worthy breakfast. Bacon and eggs, bread and sausages, potatoes and ham, cheese drizzled over pancakes, waffles with honey, tea and coffee, rice dumplings and fish porridge. Jerry beams at him.

Then he visits the scientists, who are hard at work. He winks at 65, beams at Johnny, and then goes over to talk to Reever.

"Congratulations," Reever says, "I heard about what happened to you in China. But you made it, and you've come back alive. And Hevlaska said your synchronization rate went up."

Allen nods. "I did it for all of you. All my friends."

And they smile.

Then he finds Lavi in the library, sleeping and drooling on old parchment, dreaming of forgotten things and hidden wisdom.

He prods Lavi and then Bookman's apprentice awakes, yawning. They spend a happy hour discussing their friends and teasing each other. Lavi's the one who gives them a reason to smile, being the doofus that he pretends to be.

After lunch, Allen spars with Kanda in the training area, where he tries to master the art of using a sword and fails miserably and instead takes to cheating to boost his chances. Kanda swears and drops his own sword, and they fight like a bunch of children, with nothing but their hands and legs.

"You fucking cheat," Kanda growls, hair tie lost in the fray. "Always playing dirty."

"You bloody jerk," Allen replies with equal enthusiasm, a bump forming on his head. "It's about winning."

When all is said and done, though, Allen smiles. Kanda is cold as ice in winter, but he's also strong. He's trustworthy, and with him around, they never need fear the enemies that lurk in the deep, hidden places.

He spends the evening with Lenalee, walking through the garden.

The sun lingers crimson in the west, floating through the sky toward the darkness at the end of the world. It's strangely peaceful, among the flowers and the little creeping plants, their leaves all folded and ready for sleep.

Allen reaches for Lenalee's hands.

In that instant, fireworks dazzle his eyes, and he can hardly breathe.

"I love you," he says to Lenalee, and takes her palm into his.

And she lets him.

And lays her head against his shoulder, her hair tickling the side of his neck, her arm warm against his.

His heart goes _thumpthump—_ and now, Allen can see the silver pinpoint of the beautiful, satellite-white Venus skirting the threads of crimson, weaving her way into the greyness that follows behind the setting sun.

This is heaven, he thinks, if only for a short while.

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on FFN in June 2011.


End file.
